


Let Go For Tonight

by lizleminem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizleminem/pseuds/lizleminem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing Stiles sees when he blinks his eyes open is Scott peering down at him with a worried expression that breaks into a grin. Stiles moves to sit up, and Scott pushes him back down gently, saying, “Oh no, don’t move.” It’s then that Stiles notices the pain radiating through his body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Go For Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Chris'](http://eatmyposey.tumblr.com) birthday. I asked her what her dream fic was and she said either sterek or skittles hurt/comfort fic so here we are. 
> 
> the only other romantic relationship in the fic is a reference to past stiles stilinski/malia tate. 
> 
> title is a song by foxes.

The first thing Stiles sees when he blinks his eyes open is Scott peering down at him with a worried expression that breaks into a grin. Stiles moves to sit up, and Scott pushes him back down gently, saying, “Oh no, don’t move.” It’s then that Stiles notices the pain radiating through his body. 

“What the fuck happened?” he asks, noticing his voice sounds gravelly, like he hasn’t used it in a while. 

“You’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be okay. Do you remember anything?” 

Stiles shakes his head and winces at the throbbing echoey pain it causes. Scott seems to notice because he grabs Stiles’ wrist, wrapping his fingers around it gently, and Stiles immediately feels some of his pain drain out. 

“We were fighting with another pack, the one we’ve been tracking that’s been turning humans without their consent, and you were _supposed_ to be waiting outside. You were supposed to be there to trap them in a mountain ash circle if they tried to escape. But halfway through the fight you come running in with that dumb baseball bat. Next thing I know you’re being thrown into a wall and knocked out. You’ve got a broken leg and a broken arm and a lot of bruises. You’ve been unconscious for about five hours now, but the doctors say you’re going to be fine. I need to go grab your dad, he left to grab something to eat. You gonna be okay?” 

Stiles nods, and is immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of nausea. He tries to warn Scott, but it’s too sudden and urgent and all he can do is lean over the bed rail and throw up. 

He feels Scott’s fingers on his shoulder as he says, “Dude, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“Hey no, not your fault. Don’t apologize. I’ll find someone who can clean that up while I’m looking for your dad. I’ll be right back. And here, take this,” Scott says, nudging a trashcan closer to the bed with his foot incase Stiles throws up again. 

Stiles lays back in the bed gingerly, trying to keep down the rising wave of nausea. He situates himself as best he can in the uncomfortable hospital bed, and shuts his eyes trying to ease his headache. 

He’s only laying there for few moments, when he hears footsteps and then his dad’s voice, saying, “Stiles?”

Stiles cracks his eyes back open, “Hey pops.” 

The sheriff glares at him, obviously trying to appear stern and angry, but Stiles can see the relief layered underneath it. 

“I’m glad you’re awake, because now I can kill you,” he says, stepping closer to Stiles, carefully avoiding the pool of vomit beside the bed as a janitor comes in to clean it up. 

Stiles huffs out a laugh and says, “Come on. I know you won’t kill me. I’m your only child.”

“Yeah, which is exactly why you need to stop running headfirst into danger.” He waits a while for the janitor to finish up and leave, the strong smell of cleaning chemicals still lingering in the room, before he adds, “Let the people with supernatural healing face off against the things with fangs and claws from now on, okay?” 

Stiles rolls his eyes, and his dad claps his hand down on his shoulder, a little too hard. “Seriously, Stiles, I refuse to lose you too.” 

Stiles feels a huge wave of guilt at that, and he nods his head shakily, not even caring about the added pain it causes as he says, “I plan on sticking around for a long time still, dad.” 

HIs dad nods, and there’s the sound of approaching footsteps before Melissa enters the room in her scrubs. “Stiles, I’m so glad to see you awake. I have to let you know though that if you ever worry your father like that again I will kill you myself.” 

Stiles snorts and says, “I think you and him would have to fight for who gets to be the one to do it then because he gave me the same threat.” 

She nods and comes closer to the bed, brushing Stiles’ hair back gently as she says, “They want to keep you overnight for observations, but you should be cleared to go home tomorrow.” 

***

After Stiles gets home from the hospital, a few days pass rather uneventfully. He can’t really do anything. He can’t even jerk off. His right hand is the broken one and an attempt to use his left hand failed spectacularly. His friends text him a lot and Scott drops by to check on him and hang out for a while every day, but he mostly just lays in bed bored out of his mind.

So, it’s a welcome relief when there’s a knock on his door and then Malia sticks her head in. Stiles thinks it’ll be nice to have someone new to hang out with for awhile. “How are you feeling?” she asks. 

“Bored. Mostly just bored.” 

Malia nods. “You want some company?” 

“I’d love some.” 

She grins at him, and comes the rest of the way into his room. “You wanna try playing a video game or something?” 

“Uh, yeah, actually that’d be a nice change from all the movies I’ve been watching. My arm doesn’t hurt too bad right now so Mario Kart might be possible.” 

“I’m definitely going to kick your ass,” Malia says, her smile a little feral as she goes to set the game up. 

“In your dreams,” Stiles responds, pushing himself up and leaning back against his headboard. 

Malia gets the game set up and grabs them both a controller, before settling herself beside Stiles on the bed. 

It’s hard to hold the controller right with the cast getting in his way, but Stiles thinks he’ll be able to manage. It’ll just be a little awkward and might take some getting used to. He hits play and they choose characters and a course and Stiles settles on the bed more comfortably while he waits for the race to start. 

After they’ve been playing for a while, with Malia winning every round, Stiles finally takes the lead. So of course that’s when Malia blurts out, “Are you ever going to ask Scott out?” 

Stiles chokes and runs his character off the course. “Oh, come on. That was totally cheating.” 

Malia laughs, but says, “I’m serious, though. He would say yes, Stiles.” 

“He’s my best friend.” 

“And? He still totally wants to bone you just as much as you want to bone him.” 

Stiles laughs weakly. “I have long since accepted that Scott doesn’t want me like that. Don’t get my hopes up. Let me move on in peace.” 

Malia rolls her eyes, crossing the finish line moments before Stiles, and turns toward him. “You are such an idiot.” 

“Thanks for the loving words of support, Malia. I can always count on you.” 

She snorts and digs her elbow into his side. “Come on. I’m serious. Have you seriously never noticed the way he looks at you? You can not be that dense.” 

Stiles just shakes his head, and Malia sighs. “I have to get home for dinner. I still think you’re an idiot though. Call me if you need anything, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

Malia gets up and heads for the door, but right before she leaves Stiles says, “Hey, Malia?” 

“Yeah?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“I’m really glad we stayed friends after we broke up.” 

She grins at him, and nods. “Yeah. And I’m glad you’re okay, Stiles.” 

He nods and smiles and she heads on out of the room. 

***

“I brought you your homework,” Scott says, a few hours later, as he pops his head inside Stiles’ door. “How are you feeling?” 

“Worse now that I’m thinking about homework,” Stiles says. 

Scott laughs softly, saying, “Come on. I’ll help you,” as he comes over and settles himself beside Stiles on the bed. “How’s your pain?” 

Stiles shrugs. “Not bad.” 

Scott must not like that answer because after he sets Stiles books in his lap he runs his fingertips over Stiles’ hand and Stiles watches as his veins turn black and pain leeches out of Stiles’ body. 

“Dude, you don’t have to,” Stiles starts, but Scott shakes his head. 

“I don’t mind.” 

He looks up at Stiles with a stupidly earnest expression and anything Stiles could have possibly said in response dies on his lips. 

He nods instead, and Scott leeches it out for a few more moments before removing his fingertips from Stiles’ hand and reaching for one of his schoolbooks instead. “Better?” he asks. 

Stiles nods and watches as Scott opens his history book and spreads it out across both of their laps. Scott’s knee knocking against the cast on Stiles’ leg. 

“You’re supposed to read the chapter and then answer the questions at the end. So I guess just read it, and then tell me your answers and I’ll write them down for you.” 

“Seriously, Scott, you don’t have to do all of this.”

“Your only other option is writing with your left hand and that’s not a good option. Besides, I don’t mind.”

He looks over at Stiles with a huge grin, and Stiles is struck - as he frequently is when faced with Scott - with an overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss him. He doesn’t succumb though. He just smiles back at him and ignores the flush that covers his cheeks as Scott turns back to his book. He’s pretty sure his heart is beating double time and he hopes Scott doesn’t notice. 

***

He blinks his eyes open blearily a few hours later and it takes him a moment to understand what happened. Him and Scott must have fallen asleep working on his homework. He can still feel one of his books heavy in his lap, and Scott’s sprawled out next to him, one of his arms thrown out over Stiles’ waist. 

Stiles just watches him for a moment, just taking in the peaceful expression on his face and the steady rise and fall of his chest. After he’s looked his fill he nudges Scott’s shoulder with his uninjured hand, and watches as he blinks his eyes open. 

“Did we pass out mid homework assignment?” he asks, his voice rough from sleep. 

“Yeah, I think we must have,” Stiles answers. 

“I should probably go home,” Scott says. “Do you need anything first?” 

Stiles wants to tell him to spend the night. That he just needs him. But he doesn’t. He swallows the words, and shakes his head. 

“There has to be something you need me to do before I leave. You can’t even stand up and you have to be starving or thirsty or something. You haven’t eaten or had pain medicine in hours. Also, dude, you kind of reek.” 

“Well showering like this is not exactly easy,” Stiles says. 

“Yeah, that’s not exactly what I meant. You smell, uh frustrated. Like sexually. It’s so strong I could honestly probably smell it from like three blocks away.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes, and says, “Yeah, well, jerking it is kind of impossible with a broken hand. I tried with my left, but yeah, not happening. And what are you going to do about that anyway?” 

“I could help,” Scott says. “I mean, I could jerk you off. If you wanted.” 

Stiles laughs, thinking he’s joking, but when Scott just keeps looking at him with his sincere puppy dog eyes, Stiles laughter cuts off. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah. I mean, you’re my best friend. I want to take care of you.” 

“I don’t think giving me a hand job falls under the normal definition of taking care of me.” 

Scott huffs out a soft laugh and says, “Look, I definitely don’t want to pressure you or anything. I’m just saying, if you wanted me to, I wouldn’t mind. No big deal.” 

Stiles pauses, really thinking about it, and takes a deep breath before he nods. “If you’re sure, then yeah, actually, that’d be a big help.” 

“Okay, uh,” Scott says, peeling Stiles’ blanket down to expose his pajama clad legs. “I’m just gonna…” He trails off hooking his fingers under the waistband of Stiles’ pajama pants and boxers, tugging them down. Stiles lifts up off the bed, so that Scott can slide them down. He’s already semi hard, his dick chubbing against his thigh. 

Scott says, “Do you have lube or do you just use spit?”

Stiles jerks his head toward his bedside table and says, “In the drawer.” 

Scott stands up for long enough to grab it and then the bed dips with his weight as he settles himself next to Stiles, facing him. He pours some lube on his hand, taking a moment to rub his fingers against his palm to warm it, and then he’s taking Stiles dick in his hand. 

His best friend, someone he’s known since he was in diapers, is touching his dick. And it should probably be weird. But this is Scott. Stiles has been in love with him since the second grade. He’s wanted to kiss him since the seventh, and he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about him doing this too. 

And maybe it’s wrong, letting Scott do this when he doesn’t know Stiles’ true feelings, but his hand feels so good Stiles can’t even think about asking him to stop. Scott’s being gentle, going slow like he wants to make sure this is good for Stiles. It’s a little too slow for Stiles’ taste though, and he can’t help it when his hips move in shallow thrusts. 

Scott’s watching him, his mouth parted slightly and his eyes flitting over Stiles’ face, like he actually wants to see all of Stiles’ reactions. It’s all so hot that Stiles knows he isn’t going to last much longer at all. His breathing is already shallow and labored, and he’s letting out soft moans that he can’t help, trying hard not to accidentally breathe out Scott’s name. Afraid that’ll change something, make it too weird, break the spell. 

Scott’s leaning forward slightly, his hand moving over Stiles’ dick, wrist turning slightly in a way that’s driving Stiles mad. He thumbs over the tip, and Stiles lets out a shuddery moan, biting his lip so that he doesn’t get too loud. Stiles is getting close, and even though he almost doesn’t want this to end, he knows he just needs a little bit more. He reaches his left hand down and fondles his balls, and when his thumb brushes up against Scott’s fist, that’s all it takes. He comes hard. His toes curl, and his head falls back against the wall, as come spurts up onto his shirt and all over Scott’s hand. 

When he opens his eyes back up, Scott hasn’t even moved yet. He’s just grinning happily at Stiles, and something snaps in Stiles at the sight. He grabs onto Scott’s shirt collar with his left hand and tugs him forward, their noses colliding and teeth clacking, but their lips meet each other’s eventually and Stiles kisses Scott eagerly. 

It only takes a second of Scott not kissing him back before Stiles panics. He shoves Scott back, his face going brilliantly red, as he stutters out, “Fuck, I am so so sorry. Jesus. Here you were being a good friend and I had to go and make it weird. God. Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry. You can go if you want.” 

“That’s not what I want,” Scott says, and then his face is back in Stiles’ space, before he dips down, connecting their lips much more gently than before. 

It takes a moment for Stiles brain to catch up to what’s happening, but then he tangles the fingers of his good hand in Scott’s hair, tugging him closer, and kissing him with everything he has. When they finally pull apart they’re both panting, but they’ve also got matching smiles. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that for?” Scott asks. “Fucking years.” 

“I can’t believe we’ve missed out on so much time when we could have been making out. Come on, we have to make up for lost time,” Stiles says, reeling him back in by his shirt collar and kissing him. He presses harder this time, a little bit more insistent, before turning his head so he can kiss Scott’s cheek and then his jawline, scraping his teeth over it lightly. 

Scott grins as he says, “Come on, you need to get some sleep. We can make out more tomorrow. I promise.” 

Stiles pulls back reluctantly and lets Scott pull his come stained shirt over his head. He uses it to wipe the rest of the mess off himself and Stiles and then tosses it at Stiles hamper. Then he’s crawling into bed next to Stiles and wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist, tugging him close. Stiles settles in, his eyes blinking shut as he feels Scott press a short but firm kiss against his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever write a fic that doesn't end with the characters going to sleep?
> 
> I can be found on tumblr [here.](http://laurahaie.tumblr.com)


End file.
